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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24497335">Masquerade (hide your face so the world will never find you)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/impravidus/pseuds/impravidus'>impravidus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, BAMF Peter Parker, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Peter Parker, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, Hurt Peter Parker, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Married Life, Myserio did NOT reveal Peter's identity, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Romantic Fluff, Secret Identity, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:26:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24497335</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/impravidus/pseuds/impravidus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Superhero!Harley and Villain!Peter are happily married and unaware that their spouse is the one they've been spending their nights fighting.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harley Keener &amp; Peter Parker, Harley Keener/Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>355</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Masquerade (hide your face so the world will never find you)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harley was tired. He was sore and exhausted and weak and nearly falling on his feet when he got home, that he could barely shimmy off his shoes when he stepped into his penthouse, collapsing on the couch with a heavy sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a dip in the cushion and two firm hands rubbing at his socked feet. He moaned in delight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, honey,” his beautiful, amazing, wonderful, oh so perfect husband whispered softly. “Hard day at the office?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley nodded weakly. “You could say that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re home pretty late,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed. “I’m sorry, darlin’. Things just… they got a little crazy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked to him with a soft care in his eyes. Getting up, he kneeled next to the couch, and ran a gentle hand through his blonde locks. “I’ll go warm up some leftovers and get you a glass of sauvignon blanc. If you’re still hungry, we’ve got some Fourth of July cake in the fridge. Then, when you’re done, you can rather: A. take a bubble bath and then get a lovely back massage or B. get a lovely back massage in the bath. How’s that sound?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley closed his eyes, overwhelmed with gratefulness. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were you.” He kissed his forehead. “I’ll go get you dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter Parker. How Harley had stumbled to find such an angel, he didn’t know. Well, actually, he did know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a Young Innovators convention and Harley had been presenting his affordable, green, and advanced hearing aids. After he watched his mother lose her hearing at the young age of forty six, he swore that he would invent the best accommodations for her that he could. Helping others with his tech was just a bonus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter had been there sharing his new portable biodegradable triage. Peter had already been a name known in the biomedical field with his work on the treatment of Cellulae Apicales Mortiferum. He had discovered how to stabilize dying cells of the terminal illness at the young age of twenty two. He was a revolutionary name in modern science. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter was on his way to the podium to present when another attendee had spilled their red wine all over his white blazer. Harley, quick on his feet, ripped off his suit jacket and handed it to the brown eyed man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankful, Peter rushed out of his blazer and slipped on Harley’s which was just a couple sizes too big before he hurried to the podium, wide eyes on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, well, he gave an amazing speech. One of the best speeches that Harley had seen in a long while. He spoke with a genuine passion with prowess and determination that kept the audience silent and encapsulated. His technology was ingenious and when he spoke about it, he was eloquent and articulate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a standing ovation of thunderous applause, Peter snaked his way back to Harley.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I think </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>the lifesaver here. Your biodegradable triage, it’s… it’s impeccable. You are changing the medical field as we know it. This is going to save millions of lives,” Harley praised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s face flushed as he shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Really. Be proud of what you’ve created. Because I can see it. I saw you up there with your dedication and your obvious tenacity and endless hours spent on what you love, and it is absolutely remarkable. You are brilliant and that brain of yours could take over the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled bashfully, holding out his hand. “Peter Parker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harley Keener.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the rest of the night was a blur. With the occasional, well, frequent interruptions of greedy investors and curious scientist, they made their way around the convention, sharing intelligent and geeky conversation and just enjoying the other’s company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Harley found out that Peter had been living just down the street from his apartment in New York, they promised to catch a lunch when they were back home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they shared many, many lunches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lunches turned into dinners and dinners turned into much more, and it was nearly a year when Harley finally moved into Peter’s penthouse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another year passed, Harley’s hearing aids were hot on the market, and Peter was working on nanodrones for intricate surgeries, and Harley had finally popped the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a lovely seaside wedding and honeymoon backpacking through Europe, they settled into domestic married life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, Harley had a big secret. A secret that Peter could never find out about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley was a superhero. Iron Lad, the legacy to Tony Stark after his tragic passing. He may not be the head of the legion of superheroes, but he was a very necessary member.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the Avengers disbanded and retired, the new generation rose to the plate to fight a new, dangerous threat that the government had tried to get a handle on, but ultimately failed. Mutants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In 2033, the Mutant Containment Act was put into place. After the rise of mutant terrorism, the civilian population were lost in hysteria and fear. So, the MCA ensured that mutants were under close surveillance, and if they were to act in any sort of vigilantism or terrorist activities, they would be brought in to be incarcerated under mutant preventive standards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley had never been part of what happened after they were detained, but he knew it was his duty to protect the people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, that was his job. Detain the mutants. If they put up a fight, put up an even bigger fight against them, and at no cost, let them go free. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was always given a background on the target. Name, life, offense(s). It was simple and it wasn’t everyday. He was called when he was needed, and he could live his normal life on the time off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, it didn’t come easily. Because there were those who acted against those who worked to protect the MCA. They were known as the Picaros. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Picaros were led by Spider-Man, a man that was once known for his heroism and selflessness before he was ultimately revealed to have murdered Mysterio, a man who was protecting Europe from Spider-Man’s evil drones, in cold blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then that the world knew that Spider-Man could not be trusted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The red and blue hero went off the grid for a long time. Nearly ten years he had not been seen. But when the MCA was enacted and mutants began to be taken in, he rose from the shadows and rained hell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It started with the jailbreaking. Harley had never been in the containment units, but when he caught word that hundreds of mutants were broken out, he knew that this would be a long fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spider-Man was there to thwart their extraction, protecting the mutant criminals despite their crimes. He put up an arduous fight and did not hold back against the powerless agents. Every time they cracked a way to get through his webs, he perfected them even further, making them impenetrable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And his team was fast. They were smart and quick and well trained. They put up even more of a fight than Spider-Man, and for the past year, he had forestalled every extraction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was a pain in his ass. That’s what he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that is why Harley was drawn tight with knots in his back, very glad that he didn’t receive any external damage, waiting for his husband to bring him some microwaved Pad Thai.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna talk about it?” Peter asked, handing him a steaming plate as he sat up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really. I’d rather hear about your day,” Harley said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you wouldn’t believe the calibration issue we had with this prototype.” He sat down next to him. “It started with a slice of strawberry cheesecake…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>.-~*~-.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a normal Friday evening, Harley reclined on the couch with Peter fitted perfectly between his legs, head rested on his chest while he played with his brown curls. They were watching a bad Halmark christmas movie, despite the fact that it was the middle of July, heckling the set dressing and bad acting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, come on. You can’t put a few more ornaments on that tree? And those bows are obviously just space filler because they couldn’t afford more ornaments,” Peter yelled at the screen, a mouth full of cheeseballs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what is with that tinsel? It’s the flimsiest tinsel I’ve ever seen!” Harley added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter snorted. “Can’t even call it tinsel. Like why choose white? It’s so dull and curly, you’d think it’s made from Santa Clause’s pubes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha!” Harley went to grab a cheeseball, but Peter hugged it tighter to his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nu uh. Mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gimme please?” Harley asked with big puppy eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter sighed. “Fine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>One.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He took one from his bowl and popped it into his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley chewed it happily, but sucked on Peter’s finger, licking the cheeto dust off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter gasped, surprised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley smirked cheekily and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome,” Peter squeaked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley laughed a bubbly laugh, the sound vibrating against Peter’s back. “I…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s phone rang. “Sorry, I have to take this. It’s work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take your time,” Harley said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter snuck away to his office, shutting the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley’s phone rang too. He looked to his phone with a frown. “Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iron Lad. You’re needed on 57th and 12th. Extraction in progress. Details attached.” Before he could respond, they hung up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter exited the office with a sigh. “Conference call with Sydney, Australia on a potential investment. Must’ve slipped my mind when I left the lab.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn time zones,” Harley said lightly, silently thanking the fates for the out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t know when I’m gonna be back, so please save me some dinner. I’ll probably be beat when I get home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley nodded, distracted. “Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter wrapped a gentle arm around his waist and pulled him into a kiss. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you later.” And he was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley waited a good five minutes before he headed out, running over the mission details over and over in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Target: Coraline Damocles</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Abilities: Weather manipulation and hydrokinesis. Potential hemokinesis. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Offenses: One count of first degree murder, four counts of second degree, six counts of third degree. Involvement in arson and robbery on four different accounts.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Threat: Extremely dangerous.</b>
</p><p>
  <span>When Harley arrived at the scene, he could tell that he had already made a lackadaisical mistake running late. All of the agents were knocked out and webbed down. The usual crew was not there, instead just Spider-Man, chest heaving quietly as he talked in a hushed voice to Coraline Damocles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young woman looked up at Harley, eyes wide in horror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay here,” Spider-Man commanded her. “I’ll be right back. Okay? I’ll be right back.” He turned around, holding out his arms. “Hey, Laddie. What a surprise. Thought you were sitting this one out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spider-Man,” Harley said roughly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t let you take her,” he said, a gentleness to his voice that was beguiling and manipulative.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I can’t let you let her free,” Harley replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s innocent. I don’t know what they told you, but she is an innocent woman. All these people you’re taking? They are innocent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what would you know about being innocent?” Harley jeered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what it’s like to be on the side of misplaced judgement. Of people who believe lies easier than they hold onto trust that took years to build. I know what it’s like to be damned as a murderer when I would never, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever,</span>
  </em>
  <span> kill in cold blood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley, his confidence and focus stuttering, nearly fell for his speech. “You’re not going without a fight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spider-Man held up his fist. “Then I guess there’s a fight to be had.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone knew that Spider-Man was good at what he did. He had a built in premonition that could sense danger and super strength and super reflexes. He was overpowered in his advantages, and he used them for his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Harley was smart too. He was tactical and skilled and quick on his feet. He shot a warning shot at the target, just in front of her feet to do no real damage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Distracted, even for just a moment, Spider-Man snapped his head to check on her, and Iron Lad took his chance. With three well placed photon blasts, Spider-Man was out cold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he looked up to detain Coraline Damocles, she was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cursing beneath his breath, he realized that he had stopped an even greater threat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s see who you are, you bastard,” Harley muttered. He pulled Spider-Man’s mask up, but froze at the sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Familiar thin pink lips, cracked and bloodied from the punches he just threw. Big ears and soft nose and long eyelashes and brown curls and… oh God. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh God.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley rushed to pull the mask back on, and in an act of panic and desperation, flew the two of them back to their penthouse. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Their penthouse. His and Peter’s and Iron Lad’s and Spider-Man’s and oh, God.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He laid him on the couch and sat in the love seat across from it, now out of his suit, elbows propped on his knees that were bouncing with impatience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harley was torn. He was completely and utterly torn. He was distraught and distressed and he felt like his entire world was falling apart because on one hand, Spider-Man was a killer. He was a criminal and a villain and a murderer and, dare he say, his greatest enemy. But Peter? Peter was… he was his life. He was kind and sweet and intelligent. He got brain freezes every time he drank milkshakes because he always drank them too fast and he fell out of a tree trying to help a cat get down and he always tripped over his own two feet when they danced while doing dishes because they always ended up dancing because Peter insisted that they listened to ABBA.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So which one was the real him? Was Peter, his sweet Peter that had to peel and cut his apples before he ate them, a master manipulator that has been lying to him for years? Was he playing Harley like a deck of cards in a perfect game of poker? Or was Spider-Man telling the truth? Was that woman really innocent? Were… were more of these people innocent?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the truth was, he didn’t know the answer. He had no clue what the truth </span>
  <em>
    <span>was. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But he knew that he loved Peter. And he trusted Peter. And he may not have trusted Spider-Man, but he also didn’t know Spider-Man. They knew each other in passing. High stake, very violent passing, but still, passing. He knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>of </span>
  </em>
  <span>Spider-Man. He knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>about </span>
  </em>
  <span>Spider-Man, but he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>him</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But yet. He did. He knew him because he was Peter and Peter was him and Harley? He knew Peter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter stirred awake, groggily acclimating to dim light of his living room. “W-what?” He gazed over at his husband. “Harley?” He looked down, his eyes going wide at the sight of the blue and red. “I-I, I can explain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? You can?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I can,” Peter said, less confident. “Please. Harley. Please, listen to me, I can…” He got up and rushed to Harley, but Harley equipped his gauntlet, protecting himself as he pointed it towards Peter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get any closer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s heart crumbled. “Oh.” He swallowed a thick gulp. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Explain,” Harley commanded, high voice tougher than he felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t kill anyone,” Peter said, voice nearly pleading. “You have to believe me. I didn’t kill Mysterio. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He </span>
  </em>
  <span>tried to kill</span>
  <em>
    <span> me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I… I… I was seventeen, Harley. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seventeen. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And Spider-Man… he… he was all I had left from Mr. Stark. I was supposed to… I was trying to be enough for him. And being a hero, being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was my life. It was what made life worth living. All I ever wanted to do was to help people, and with him, I could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But then Mysterio framed me. He framed me for </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>crimes. And I… I… I was just a kid. I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>seventeen</span>
  </em>
  <span> and all of a sudden, everyone is saying that I was a terrorist and a murderer and I… I… what was I supposed to do? So I put away Spider-Man forever. Or, at least, what I thought would be forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But then the MCA was enacted, and I… you don’t understand what it’s like to be a mutant. You don’t know what it’s like to have this part of you that is scrutinized and hated. I didn’t realize it when I was so young, but it was dangerous just to live because there are bad people who want what I have, to use it for their own agendas, and it’s… it’s not safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then the collectors came. They… you… they were ripping mutants away from their homes. Their lives. And I… I couldn’t stay in the shadows anymore. When I put together my team and we raided the containment unit, do you know what we found?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Human experimentation. Torturous living conditions. They were prisoners who slept on cement floors and had buckets as toilets and tubes and wires hooked up to them at all times. They were gaunt and starving and weak and we could barely get them out in time. And all of these people? They were innocent. They had never committed a crime in their lives, less a parking ticket or two. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And they sobbed and they cried and they told me how the collectors spun webs of lies. Saying that they were hardened criminals who planned to use their powers for evil. But they didn’t. None of them did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These people were ripped away from their homes. Their lives were tarnished, and now they’re on the run for the rest of their lives because they fear for their safety. They can’t live without knowing there will forever be a target on their back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I’ve been trying to help them. Sending them somewhere safe. Giving them new lives. Giving them a chance. And some of them, they… they make it. They find it. They make a new life. And some? They don’t. They don’t make it that far because they decide that they’d rather take their own lives than have it taken from them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The collectors? Collection? It is a terrible, horrible, disgustingly corrupt system. And I’d like to believe that you didn’t know about it, but if you did. If you knew what you were fighting for. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who </span>
  </em>
  <span>you were fighting for, then I… I can’t trust you, and I never will again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A choked noise escaped Harley’s throat, his eyes wet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But. But… I know you, Harley Keener. And I think you only wanted to do what was right. What you </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought </span>
  </em>
  <span>was right.” He took a step forward. “So, please. Please tell me that you knew nothing about this. Tell me that you’re still the guy that I fell in love with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I didn’t know. Peter, I… I swear. I didn’t know. I would never… I didn’t… I didn’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter sobbed in relief, searching Harley eyes to decipher what he was thinking. “What are we gonna do now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re gonna bring the collectors down.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you want to chat, my Tumblr is <a href="https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/">official-impravidus</a></p><p>If you want to join a Parkner Discord, click <a href="https://discord.gg/vztSVpg">here!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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